


All Around is Wonderful

by shaggydogstail



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 08:04:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11550993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaggydogstail/pseuds/shaggydogstail
Summary: It's happy, fun sex, with a woman he trusts and respects, and isn't scared of breaking





	All Around is Wonderful

**Author's Note:**

> Title from _Nothing Hurts_ by Catatonia.
> 
> Many thanks to the lovely Wildestranger for beta-reading. Any remaining errors are mine.

The Doctor lies with his arms above his head, fingers curled tightly around the bedstead, muscles taut. Donna had threatened - half-laughing, half-teasing - to tie him down, but there's really no need. He's fixed in placed, transfixed by the sight of Donna above him, the scent, the feel, the taste of her, and it'd take a galaxy of supernovae exploding to move him now.

Donna's breasts sway as she moves above him, full and heavy. The Doctor stares at them, open-mouthed, and he's hardly aware of his tongue flicking out over his lower lip. _Fuck, she's lovely, isn't she? Yeah, fantastic._

'Don't just lie there drooling, space-boy,' Donna chides him, her lips quirking into a smile that turns the admonishment into something much more naughty and fun. 'Make yourself useful.'

She reaches over, untangling his hands from the bed-frame and pulling them towards her. The Doctor doesn't wait to be told twice, cupping the weight of her breasts in his palms, stroking his thumbs over her nipples. Donna moans softly, content and happy like the big, gorgeous ginger cat that got the cream, and lowers herself a little further onto his cock. _Fuck_. It's perfect.

'Good?' he whispers, not too smug, just making sure. Donna nods, a little gasp for _yes_ , so the Doctor continues, taking her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and applying just enough pressure so that Donna's head sways; a cascade of hair and the warm exhalation of her breath on his face telling him that, yes, that really is good.

It's a little like a science experiment, sex, especially the first time. Trial-and-error calculation of which touches and where produce the best results. The Doctor focuses all his attention on Donna, carefully noting what makes her breathing quicken, when her cheeks flush, how to make her wet, and the subtle little twists and distractions that say _not there, sunshine._ Donna doesn't like too much tongue when they're kissing, but she adores it when he licks her neck or sucks her fingers into his mouth. She likes having her hair stroked, and a soft kiss or touch to the back of her neck makes her shiver beautifully.

Yeah, it's like science, but a lot more fun. The Doctor wants to please Donna, wants to make her gasp and writhe and moan, to make her lose control and see her face when she comes. He wants to make her happy, to see that affectionate, only slightly mocking smile on her face ("you're a daft streak of alien piss, but I'm very fond of you"). He wants to make her laugh.

He brings his hands down, tracing the sides of Donna's body with his fingertips, skimming over the curve of her waist and across the softness of her belly.

'Doctor!' Donna gasps, head thrown back.

Donna's ticklish. Very, very ticklish. Fiendishly ticklish. And the Doctor? Is not above exploiting this particular weakness of human physiology. He skims his hand back over Donna's belly, down towards her hip with light, barely-there touches because he knows that it's the softest tickles that get her the most.

Donna wrinkles at the middle and collapses, falling forward onto the Doctor, the warm puffs of her laughter dancing across his neck.

'Git,' she manages, half-breathless.

'Sorry,' says the Doctor, stroking hair back off Donna's face as she lifts her head to look at him.

'You are not,' she says.

'Maybe not,' he admits, then tilts his head up, and kisses her.

He's not sorry at all, of course. Why should he be? He's not sorry, or anxious, or scared, or racked with guilt. It's happy, fun sex, with a woman he trusts and respects, and isn't scared of breaking. Donna called it "friends with benefits", and even if the Doctor hadn't learnt better than to argue with her, he wouldn't protest at that. Right now, the Doctor can let himself go, allow himself to stop thinking and just feel, revelling in the carnal sensations of touch and taste, the warmth of Donna's body and the joy of her company. Shagging Donna isn't a cure of all his problems, won't undo his mistakes or bring back the people he lost or let down, but it's a welcome respite from dwelling on all of that. Right now, with Donna, everything is beautiful and nothing hurts.

Donna's mouth is soft and welcoming as the Doctor soothes her not-really annoyance with kisses; deep, slow and sensuous. He wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her close, because there can never be too much skin-on-skin contact between them. Donna shifts just a little, making the Doctor gasp as her cunt - hot, wet, and tight - swallows up his cock. She rocks back and forth, her hair falling in thick auburn waves over her face and shoulders, and her breasts swaying over the Doctor's chest. There's a look of triumph on her face - Donna's good and she knows it - but there's no way the Doctor's just going to lie there and let her have it all her own way.

He bucks his hips, trying _this_ and _that_ until finally _yes_ ; Donna's cunt tightens around his cock, and she lets out a quiet strangled noise from the back of her throat.

'Don't you dare,' she says, 'don't even think about stopping that.'

The Doctor just smiles and carries on, watching Donna with delight and fascination. Her eyes slide shut and her lips tremble as she moans with pleasure. He holds her tightly as she comes, shaking and whimpering, and calls out her name when his own climax whips through him like a rocket.

They lie together for several long moments, spent and panting for breath. Presently Donna rolls off the Doctor and onto her back on the bed, fanning her face with her hand. She's still breathing heavily, her breasts rising and falling rhythmically, and her cheeks are flushed a delightful shade of pink.

'Well, I thought that went quite well,' says the Doctor.

'It was all right, I suppose,' replies Donna. She winks at him.

'Told you it wasn't corkscrew-shaped.'

'Just as well, 'cos there's no way I'm letting some weird-shaped alien - '

'Yes, yes, I know.' The Doctor waves away the threat of another of Donna's diatribes on the peculiarity of alien anatomy, and kisses her again, for good measure. Bickering with Donna can be fun, but this is even better.

Donna indulges him for a while, laughing against his lips and running her fingers through his tousled-mess of hair, but then pulls away with a sigh.

'Aw, don't just up and leave,' says the Doctor, catching Donna's hand as rolls to the side of the bed.

'I'm all sticky,' she tells him.

'Doesn't matter,' says the Doctor. 'It's only me, anyway.' He pulls Donna back towards him, and then settles a sheet over the both of them before she gets any more ideas about wandering off.

'I'll admit it, I'm surprised,' says Donna. 'I never had you down as the snuggling type. Next you'll be begging for me to promise to still respect you in the morning.'

'You didn't respect me in the first place,' says the Doctor.

'Don't be daft,' she tells him, as that's as good as a compliment. 'Now do you want to keep nattering on or are we gonna go to sleep?'

The Doctor's all set to make some cheap quip about tortoises, or hibernating bears, but quickly thinks better of it. Drawing attention to the fact that he doesn't really need to sleep might let Donna realise that he asked her to stay because he, um, wants to watch her sleep. Yeah.

Instead, he just settles down beside her, planting soft kisses on her forehead and stroking the hair back from her temples. Donna wriggles contentedly beside him, and yawns.

''Night, space-boy,' she says sleepily.

'Sweet dreams, Donna.'

The Doctor watches as Donna's breathing slows, looking affectionately at the soft sheen of perspiration on her nose and the smattering of freckles on her shoulder. As Donna drifts off to sleep beside him, the Doctor wonders if possibly, perhaps, he might be the tiniest bit in love with her, and that maybe that isn't the best idea, is it? Yeah, falling in love with Donna could only lead to trouble.

The Doctor smiles to himself, and decides he doesn't care.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also [shaggydogstail](https://shaggydogstail.tumblr.com/) on tumblr. Hi, hi.


End file.
